


At What Cost? - The Tale of the 66th Annual Hunger Games

by GravityHasGrace



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityHasGrace/pseuds/GravityHasGrace
Summary: The Victory of Finnick Odair has done more harm for the citizens of Panem than it has good. Being the sixth back to back career victor has made the outer districts restless with the talk of rebellion being whispered in the shadows. Follow the stories of the tributes, mentors, gamemakers, and even the President himself as the 66th Hunger Games prove to be a show that the citizens of Panem will never forget. Multiple POV





	1. CORIOLANUS I: Drinks at Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first story! Not sure what to say other than please enjoy!

CORIOLANUS I: Drinks at Twilight

THE CAPITOL

The sun is beginning to set over the city skyline and into the mountains. Taking a sip of my wine, I watch as the lights of the Capitol glow in the twilight and the city comes to life. The drink burns against the sour’s of my mouth, a pain all to familiar to me. It has grown easier to ignore over the years. At times, I even find my tongue lazily dragging over them without even realizing. 

The Reaping will occur soon. By this time tomorrow, twenty-four fresh faces will greet mine at the opening ceremony and, in a few short weeks, one of them will emerge the Victor. We've been lucky these past couple of years. The last few Victors have been deemed Gods on earth by Capitol Citizens. Each one a beautiful in their own right, bringing more revenue than I could have dreamed. Well, most of them.

It's not like when I was a boy. When the games were more of a free for all than a show and the Victors were never heard from again. The Gamemakers in these years have learned how to give the people what they want. A story. A story filled with romance, friendship, backstabbing, betrayal, and, finally, victory. 

"President Snow," I hear my secretary say behind me, "Bellona Euvandrus is here to see you."

"Send her in," I tell him. Bellona Euvandrus has been the Head Gamemaker for the past several years with her arenas spawning the best line up of Victors the Capitol's ever seen. However, after the events of last year, it doesn't appear as though we are on the same page as I thought. 

"You requested to see me, sir?” She questions, making her presence known. Wordlessly, I gesture to the empty seat next to me. 

“I don’t want a repeat of last year.” I announce once she’s sat down. I look over to see her face turn to stone. 

“No one predicted that Finnick Odair would do away with his competition so swiftly especially given his age.” She states in defense of herself. I slam my glass down so hard that majority of the wine spills out onto the side and onto the table. I watch her body jerk in surprise. 

“I don’t recall asking for your predictions, Euvandrus. Millions of dollars wasted on an arena that majority of went unexplored. Not to mention the money we wasted on unused muttations. And for what? A Victor I can’t even sell for another year. The fact that your head isn’t hanging on my mantle is a blessing in and of itself!” I find my voice raising towards the end. 

To her credit, Euvandrus doesn’t appear to be as raddled as another would be at my outburst. I feel blood beginning to form in my mouth and swallow it as I regain my composure. 

“What are the steps you’ve made to ensure we don’t see the same thing this year?” I ask as an avox wipes down the table and refills my glass. 

“We’ve decided to redo one of the older arenas that hasn’t received any visitations from the general public in years.” She informs as the avox hands her a drink. “It’ll save costs and, after the games, bring us more money than it was just sitting there taking up space.”

I nod at this, “Which one?”

“The frozen tundra from the 49th games.” I raise an eyebrow at this. What a travesty that arena had been. It raked up the largest number of tribute deaths at the bloodbath than ever before in the history of the games. Those that did survive either froze to death or were killed by a pack of wild wolf mutts. The games didn’t sit well with Capitol viewers but, lucky enough, they preceded a Quarter Quell and were quickly forgotten. 

“Improvements have been made.” She rushes out once seeing the look on my face, “A woodland modification has been installed along with alterations to the weather machine allowing for it to be warm enough during the day for the travel of the tributes.” 

I nod at her words, “I want a usable victor.” 

“That can be arranged.” She assures me, knowing the underlying message of my words. Despite the popularity of our newest Victor, Finnick Odair, he is still unusable for ‘escorting’ for another year. We’ve managed to make some money off of him from interviews, appearances, and photoshoots but that’s nothing compared to what we could be making if he were just another year older. 

“I want to give the people a show this year, Euvandrus.” I say, “A true show.”

“Trust me, sir,” She starts with a smile, “The people of Panem are in for quite a performance.”


	2. LACE I: The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This story, if you haven't figured it out yet, will feature a large number of OCs. However, majority them will be tied to canon characters in one way, shape, or form. In this chapter, you will be introduced to the first of these OC. A girl from 12 of whom is the daughter of the canon character Rooba, the butcher. That being said, enjoy the chapter.

LACE I: The Night Before

DISTRICT 12

The day before the reaping is always filled with more tension than the day of. It’s the last day of normality. Ma doesn’t like to think about it much. Rooba Jaeger was a strong woman, but there were some things even she couldn’t handle. Her children being reaped while all she could do was watch was at the top of that list. 

She’s made it through twelve years worth of reapings and didn’t lose a single one of her boys and, after this one, her daughter will finally be safe as well. We’re luckier, I suppose. Despite living in Panem’s lowest district, Ma’s made a life for us as the butchers of 12.

District 12 is small enough for us not to have any competition when it came to business, allowing for us to be one of the few families of this place to not have to be permanently covered in coal dust or worry about where we’ll find our next meal. 

“I feel like I’m doing all the work.” I hear my brother, Pax’s, strained voice complain. I realize I’m letting my half of the deer carcass drag along the ground before I yank my side up a bit.

“All the work?” I question, “I could have sworn I was the one who shot an arrow threw its head.” 

“Details, details.” He responds. Ma was going to be pleased. She hated having to haggle prices down at the Hob. The deer would bring us a good profit and, if we're lucky, relieve some of the tension that had settle in the house.

We continued to hide in the shadows and duck behind trash cans as we made our way back to the shop. Peacekeepers are rather laid back here but pooching was still illegal and punishable by public whipping. It’s better to be safe than sorry. 

We eventually found our way through the back entrance of the shop, the rapid chopping and smell of meat instantly filling my senses. 

“Brought you a present, Ma.” Pax jokes as we lay the carcass down on the table. She lets out a grunt of acknowledgement and barely looks up from her chopping as she says, “There’s some dishes in the sink waiting for you, Pax, and clean off the arrow you’s used while your at it.”

My brother sucks his teeth but does as told. Typically, washing up the dishes was my job, however, Ma always becomes more lenient with her kids who are facing the possibility of being reaped. Since it’s only me this year, I’ve practically become a Princess while my brothers have been made to wait on me hand and foot. 

“I washed your dress for tomorrow, Lace.” Ma tells me, “It’s on your bed.”

“Thanks, Ma.” I respond, placing a kiss on her cheek. I place my bow and it’s arrows in the cabinet before joining my brother at the sink.

“Has her majesty actually deigned herself to help us lower folk out for a change?” He mumbles to me and I splash some water on his shirt.

“Shut up, Pax. This time last year your feet barely touched the ground.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond. For the past six years, Pax would act like he was practically bound for the arena despite his low odds. Still, Pop and Ma waited on him hand and foot along with making our elder brothers, Jared and Moot, act as his personal servants. 

“Are you nervous?” He asks me suddenly, midway through finishing the dishes. His voice devoid of all traces of his usual sarcasm and replaced with one of seriousness. The question catches me off guard and it takes me a few moments to respond. 

“I’m not sure.” I answer, “Just trying not to think about it.”

“On the bright side, after this year, we won't have to worry about this for awhile.” He breathes and I nod in agreement, not mentioning the unspoken words lingering between us. Jared, our eldest brother, has a five year old daughter named Lottie and another baby on the way. I don't even want to think about that. Being in the shoes that my mother is in now expect this time is my niece’s life on the line. The thought scares me more than entering the arena myself. 

“Why don't you two head upstairs for the night?” Ma says out of nowhere. Pax and I turn to face her but all we are met with is her back. “I'll finish up down here.”

“You sure, Ma?” Pax asks, “We don’t mind.”

“It's fine. Big day tomorrow. You’ll both need your rest.” She mutters. We say nothing else as we make our way up the stairs, knowing there’s no use in pushing the matter. Our house, like most other merchants in the area, resided in an apartment above our shop. What once felt spacious as a child now as though the walls are closing in. 

My eldest brother, Jared, had to move back in along with his pregnant wife and daughter. Ma said that they needed some space of their own making me move into Pax and my other brother, Moot’s, room. 

I tried not to complain. My parents work hard and it's not Jared’s fault that his family fell onto hard times. However, I would give anything to not have to listen to Pax and Moot’s loud snoring every night. 

Moot’s asleep by the time we enter the room and I do my best not to wake him. The same can’t be said for Pax who stomps around the room noisily as he changes his clothes.

I can’t find it in me to do the same. So, instead, I lay down on my bed in the same clothes I've been wearing all day that now smell strongly of the woods. 

The blankets shift next to me and suddenly I am face to face with wide gray eyes. 

“Couldn't sleep, Lottie?” I say and my niece lets out a tiny giggle. It wasn't an unfamiliar thing to find her waiting for me in my bed. She was the best thing about Jared moving in again. 

“Daddy was snoring again.” She tells me.

“Louder than Uncle Moot?” I wonder and she shakes her head yes in response. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. Her body’s so small compared to mine.

I lay there for awhile just listening to the sound of her breathing. I can't even imagine what I'll do in a few years when it's her that might be reap. What if she is reaped? What will I do to save her? Our District’s only ever had two Victors. Haymitch Abernathy, the drunkard of whom I occasionally see slinking into Victor’s Village, and Tully McKinnon, that mean old witch who finally had the decency to die a few years back. 

“Promise not to leave tomorrow, okay?” I hear Lottie mumble quietly in to my chest. I wasn't aware she was still awake. I can't find it in my heart to respond to her. Promising her that I won't go could turn out to be a lie. You never know when it comes to reapings. So, instead, I place a kiss to her head and hold onto her tight.


	3. ENOBARIA I: The Bite of Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Heads Up! In this chapter, you're going to meet the character of Vikus of whom is a District 2 Victor. As many of you know, Vikus is a District 2 character that has appeared in many different Hunger Games fanfics despite not being a canon character. I just can't get him out my mind either so I'm offering my own interpretation of the character as Enobaria's former mentor. Now, onto the story!

Enobaria I: The Bite of Dawn 

District 2

"I'm not sure you're as ready as you think you are..." I trail of, my voice filled with uncertainty. My face is buried in her dark hair and I inhale her scent as if she might disappear from my touch at any moment. I hear her let out a groan as she turns around and looks at me, her face twisted in annoyance.

"Do you have that little faith in me?" She asks, more irritated than hurt. I feel her legs untangle from mine as she begins to sit up as if she means to leave. 

I quickly grab her wrist, "It isn't about a lack of faith in you. It's my lack of faith in everyone else."

This earns me a laugh. Airy and light, but a laugh nonetheless. She flops back down next to me looking up at the ceiling. 

"What's the Capitol like?" She questions with a smile across her face. It's a rarity. A nice replacement from the scowl that usually lives there.

"I've already told you twenty times."

"Then a twenty-first shouldn't hurt." She laughs as she closes her eyes, "I just want to know exactly what I’m in store for." 

I roll my eyes, "Purple wigs, green skin, shiny teeth, grating accents."

"I mean the actual city. What's it look like? Is it really as perfect as they say?"

I sigh, "It's beautiful, I guess, but it's artificial. It's surrounded by mountains but none like the one’s here. It barely rains or snows. Never to hot or too cold. Everything is always just right."

"Sounds like a paradise."

I give a grunt in response, suppressing my true feelings. The urge to bite is setting in again. It's coming back to me now. The rain. Rain as thick as blood. It's everywhere. My arms, my legs, my mouth. My mouth. It's filling with the taste of iron again. Skin in between my teeth. My teeth, no longer are they my own! My body’s no longer my own! Nothing belongs to me anymore!

"Enobaria!" A shout shakes me from my thoughts and I suddenly remember where I am. In District 2, in Victor's Village, with Pomena. I feel her hands caressing my face, wiping blood from my lips. I didn't realize I was biting at them again.

"I'm sorry." I say as I brush her hands away and turn to face the wall. I hear her sigh and scoot closer to me. She places a kiss to my neck, soft and light, and I resist the urge to jerk away. I feel my skin breakout in goosebumps as she trails her fingers down my arm.

"Maybe I'll understand better after I win." She whispers and I fight the urge to bite again. I want to tell her. Tell her what the Capitol would do to a girl like her. Beautiful, strong, and born to be broken. But I don't. Privacy is an illusion. There's no telling who may or may no be listening in unbeknownst to us. So, instead, I accept her touch. Calloused fingers that still manage to somehow be as soft as the rain. 

It's still dark out but we both have to be at the Training Centre soon. It's her final evaluation. They want to make sure she's ready to volunteer later today especially after last year's fiasco a.k.a the Shaming of District 2.

Both of our tributes perished in the Bloodbath at the hands of Finnick Odair and his district partner. Never before had that happened in the history of the entire games. I remember as we watched the kills occur on the big TV in the Centre’s main gymnasium. The tense silence that had settled over the room lasted for a few seconds that seemed longer than an eternity before all hell broke loose. 

Vikus, the Centre’s head trainer and Victor of the 39th Hunger Games, went on a rampage. 

Countless hours of training like never before took place with the weaker prospects being expelled and the weakest being killed in the ring. 

It was rare for a trainer to order for the death of trainees in the sparring ring. Death usually only occurred during the one of the last examination of prospective tributes. However, it was clear that Vikus, nor myself or any other trainer, couldn't care less. The strong live and the weak die. Such is the way of District 2.

I feel Pomena begin to rise from her spot in the bed and soon hear the rustling of clothes. She's not suppose to be here. Mentor and trainee relationships, while not forbidden, are incredibly taboo. If people were to find out about ours, they would accuse me of favoritism. As if Pomena’s ability wasn't abundantly clear. 

‘Don't let lust cloud your thinking.’ Vikus had told me once he found out. I hadn't told him, of course, but it was difficult to sneak anything past my old mentor. 

"I’ll see you at the Centre in a few." She tells me before she goes. I say nothing as she leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Literally open to any suggestions and constructive criticism you may have.


End file.
